


Pickles and Cheese

by Political_Bastards



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Political_Bastards/pseuds/Political_Bastards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Eric Pickles takes you out to lunch?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pickles and Cheese

Eric Pickles sits there stuffing food into his mouth, disgusting you think. You can't believe you actually agreed to this, but he was so polite when he asked you, that you couldn't refuse. Another sandwich goes in, the platter diminishing.

Through the noise, you manage to make out what you think is 'So what do you think of the Tory majority?' He eats the metal platter. Terrible you think, 'Its great, absolutely brilliant' you squawk out, frightened he might eat you, now he's finished. He looks around with wide eyes looking for more, 'I've got to go, sorry Eric, busy schedule, but it was fun'. He turns his beady little eyes towards you, and licks his lips, 'Leave me, but why? We've only just begun' He gets up to follow you, you hurriedly move out of the way.

Arriving at the bar, you ask the barman for help, he looks at you confused. You point behind you, and a look of realisation dawns on his face. He hands you an object that he seemingly pulled from nowhere. You turn around to see Eric Pickles hurtling towards you like a juggernaut. 'Wait for me' he booms in his loud Yorkshire accent, crisps dropping from his face, panting like a dog.

Just as he's about to reach you, the barman ducks behind the counter with a yelp. This is it life or death, you swing your arms around and smash the crowbar into his head. You hear a sickening crunch as it breaks through his skull and becomes embedded in his head. He lets out one last gasp, 'Food' you hear, before he drops to the ground, knocking over many nearby tables as he goes.

You let out a sigh of relief. 'Is-is he dead?' you hear a high pitched whisper from behind you say, its the barman. 'I don't know'. You look at Eric, blood forming in pools around him. There's no way he can't be dead, but you check his pulse anyway. You can't feel anything, but then again that could be because there are too many rolls of fat in the way. You step back in shock, emitting a quiet 'Yeah'.

You killed a man, sure he looked like he was going to eat you, but what if he hadn't wanted to, and none the less, you still murdered the guy. You begin to break down and cry, standing over the body. The barman guides you to one of the stools at the bar and serves you a pint to drown your sorrows in.

After what seems like hours, but is really just many, many pints, glasses of wine, and shots, you wonder how you're still alive, yet alone conscious. Suddenly you feel something grab your ankle. You hear a deep voice slur 'Maybe we can just be friends'. Turning with a look of horror on your face, you see Eric get up, grasp the handle of the crowbar, and tear it out. He smiles at you softly, looking rather frightening with a large hole in his head and soaked in his own blood.

You can't help but feel relived, relived that you're not a murderer. You grin happily and hug him, before buying him a drink and telling him what happened, and what you thought he was going to do, with both of you laughing into the night. After a while and way too much alcohol, you black out.

You wake up with a yawn to the sound of the most boring voice ever saying something about pork markets in Beijing. You look up, it's Liz Truss, she continues talking as though she never realised you were asleep. You yawn and stretch, which grabs her attention. You tell her about your dream, she's upset about you falling asleep, but says 'That's what you get for eating too much imported cheese before sleeping'. You bark out a laugh, she just looks confused.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was already posted on my tumblr, so I thought I'd bring it over here. Just an idea I had, about a date with Sir Eric.


End file.
